Fair Eve

Fair Eve, as fair and still As fairest thought, climbs the high sheltering hill; As still and fair As the white cloud asleep in the deep air. As cool, as fair and cool, As starlight swimming in a lonely pool; Subtle and mild As through her eyes the soul looks of a child. A linnet sings and sings, A shrill swift cleaves the air with blackest wings; White twinkletails Run frankly in their meadow as day fails. On such a night, a night That seems but the full sleep of tired light, I look and wait For what I know not, looking long and late. Is it for a dream I look, A vision from the Tree of Heaven shook, As sweetness shaken From the fresh limes on lonely ways forsaken? A dream of one, maybe, Who comes like sudden wind from oversea? Or most loved swallow Whom all fair days and golden musics follow?— More sudden yet, more strange Than magic airs on magic hills that range:— Of one who'll steep The soul in soft forgetfulness ere it sleep. Yes, down the hillside road, Where Eve's unhasty feet so gently trod, Follow His feet Whose leaf-like echoes make even spring more sweet.